


A Strangest Union

by Lene3161



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval Fantasy, Arranged Marriage, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-11-23 18:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18155693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lene3161/pseuds/Lene3161
Summary: For Q, it was a matter of pragmatism. He hoped they would at least get along, and maybe find love along the way.For Bond, it was a part of his duty. He never expected to actually fall in love. But he supposed it made the whole thing much more bearable.





	1. Sunday-Bond, Tuesday-Q

**Author's Note:**

> Based very loosely on that tumblr post about a princess rejecting a marriage offer from a handsome young prince to marry an old middle aged king for political reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I decided to write Q as hemp paper using, because it makes more sense to have a king who is concerned about his country using hemp paper, which is made of plants native to his country. Sorry for my numerous edits, you all.

Prince Bond regarded the letter in his hand impassively. The Boy King, Q; or the Royal Changeling, or the Blessed Beauty, or whatever other silly name his enemies and admirers gave him in turn, was certainly a very bold man. A _marriage offer_ , of all things. And written in his own hand to boot, judging by how the signature matched the beautiful flowing script of the letter's contents. Normally, royals had secretaries who wrote whatever their masters dictated, with the royals simply signing their name at the end of the documents; but the Boy King just _had_ to do things his way.

 

Bond pursed his lips and turned to face his aunt, Queen Olivia Mansfield, or Queen M as she preferred to be called. “Your Majesty,” He said with a calm he did not feel, “You cannot _possibly_ expect me to marry this- _child_.” Because at the end of the day, it was what he was. Despite his great intellect and incredible statesmanship, he was still barely out of his youth. There was also the matter of his sex. Bond had never felt an attraction towards the same sex, while the Boy King’s predilection towards buggery was widely rumoured and recently confirmed, with that campaign of his.

 

“What else can you do, James? Our lands are getting stuck in a rut, our economy stagnating. We need new blood. That _child_ , as you called him,” and she inclined her head to the parchment in his hand, “Had completely revolutionised his kingdom. He had turned it from an average small nation to an economic and cultural powerhouse. What’s more, he has redefined marriage itself. Our people are losing faith in us, James, and they admire this young king’s rule. It is our only option.”

 

Bond clenched his jaw and looked away. He knew, logically, that marrying the Boy King was the best thing to do, but his free spirit bucked at the idea.

 

“You know that King Q has set up a one-year courting period, James. Learn to tolerate him in that time. Form a-shall we say- _arrangement_ with him, if you sense he is willing. After all, what happens behind closed doors is nobody’s business. You can have your women, King Q will have the support of our military against his enemies, and our people will have new industries and renewed faith in us.” M’s voice was stern but gentle.

 

Bond exhaled roughly. “Alright,” he said resignedly. “Tanner, write my acceptance. Use as much flattery as you can get away with without sounding insincere. May I be excused, M?”

 

M nodded at him. He was just about to leave M’s private office when she said, “Wait, James.”

 

He turned to face her again.

 

“Keep an open mind. I know that you did not have the best experience with love,” James snorted. That was the understatement of the year. “But his beauty and kindness is well-known. There is no portrait of him outside of his kingdom, so you cannot decide for yourself, but every visitor has said he is very attractive. Perhaps you may find yourself utterly besotted with him as so many people seem to do.”

 

James scowled. He turned on his heel and left M alone with Tanner.

 

 

* * *

 

  

“Are you _sure_ , Q?” R asked him worriedly for the thirty-first time in the last six days. “Are you _certain_ that this is the best course of action?” He combed Q’s hair just a bit more roughly than usual, his distress evident.

 

Not for the first time, Q deeply regretted being truthful when R asked him why he was writing on parchment instead of the hemp paper he championed. Lying about a stodgy old king who refused to read anything written on paper because it was cheap and unbefitting of royalty would have made his life much easier compared to saying he was penning a marriage offer to Queen M’s heir.

 

“For the last time, R, _yes_. Shall I tell you why again? Of course I will, since you never seem to _listen_.” Q glared at his valet’s reflection on his dressing table mirror. He started stroking his ginger tomcat Henry’s ears. His other cat, Toby, stopped grooming his black fur and observed Q from his position on the bed, green eyes glowing from the fire; wondering why his usually calm owner hissed just as badly as him.

 

“Our kingdom, prosperous as it is, is positively _tiny_ compared to our enemies. No matter our advances in technology and medicine, we will be crushed under their might. Prince Bond’s kingdom, on the other hand, is well-known for their military prowess. His people, however, are not thriving. Their harvests for the past few years have barely fed the nation, the people are plagued with many illnesses and their economy is sluggish. I believe it is because his kingdom is simply far too large to be managed effectively, and his lords are too stuck in the past to change for the better.” R reached for the boars’ bristle brush and started to run it through his hair gently. Henry started purring, his blue eyes closing in pleasure. Toby lost interest and went back to grooming himself.

 

“Our marriage will ensure that our technology, medicine and agricultural techniques will aid the Kingdom of Skyfall. Prince Bond’s soldiers will intimidate rival kingdoms and make them think twice about invading. And I will be seen to practice what I preach.” R paused in his brushing.

Q was just about to remind him to resume his work when R said hesitantly, “I understand that a marriage is necessary, but _why him_? Q, he’s twice your age! And he has never been interested in men! There are other princes and kings, Q. Why, your most ardent admirer King John is handsome, skilled with a sword, and most importantly, barely thirty! Why did you reject his proposal?”

 

“Prince Bond is forty; he’s hardly twice my age. King John, while only five years older than me; is vain, brutish and incompetent. He is nothing but a warmongering oaf with a kingdom that is falling down to ruins without him even noticing. His people will revolt soon, and I refuse to be sucked into that mess.” Q tapped R’s hand. R got the hint and went back to brushing. Henry shifted onto his back and Q used his other hand to scratch his neck.

 

“Maybe it’s better if you didn’t make marriage a state matter instead of a religious matter,” R stated quietly. “That way, marriage between two men will still be illegal and you won’t be in this mess.”

 

Q harrumphed. “And have the Temple continue preaching that people who love or lust differently than most are repulsive monsters? No, R. And this proves I actually believe in my own ideas, something I need right now because of how my enemies accused me of being a hypocrite for rejecting King John. Royalty’s lovers have always been kept secret, or as secret as they can be,” which was admittedly not much, “But Father and Mother had made me promise to keep my leanings under wraps for ‘the good of the kingdom’. While there were rumours about me, there wasn’t any actual confirmation, until I legalized buggery and same-sex marriage. People expect me to practise my ideas. This is the best way.”

 

R was quiet. He finished brushing Q’s hair in silence. Once he was done with his grooming, Q stood and set a protesting Henry down on his dressing table stool to let R pull a thick woolen nightshirt over his long linen shift.

 

Q picked up Henry and slipped into his four-poster bed, and R closed the drapes. Q expected R to say good night before leaving, as usual, but R said softly, “I wish our kingdom’s future isn’t contingent on you marrying a man fifteen years your elder, Q.”

 

Q sighed. “Don’t be like that. It’s just-practical. There is no romance to it at all. I’ll be alright. I hope Prince Bond and I will be friends, but the most important thing is that our kingdoms will prosper. The state of our marriage is secondary to that. Now go; I need to rest.”

 

“Gathering strength to read Bond’s answer tomorrow, Q?” R asked cheekily.

 

“Yes. Now begone with you. Shoo.”

 

Q heard R’s footsteps recede before he heard the sound of him stoking the fire, then the sound of his door opening and closing.

 

Once he was alone, he stroked both his cats. “What will happen if we don’t get along?” He whispered to his cats. Sensing his distress, Toby went from his usual position near Q’s feet to his side. He curled up into Q and purred soothingly. Henry sprawled right next to Q’s head, his head and paw on Q’s shoulder.

 

Q sighed again. Well, whatever happens, happens. He’ll simply make the best of their union. With that thought, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

 

 


	2. Wednesday-Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some world building.

Bond drew the string of his bow back, the unseasonably warm for an autumn day's late afternoon Sun shining His gentle rays on him. Once he reached anchor point he let loose. The arrow hit the target, which was a small knot on a tree, dead center. Bond wiped the sweat off his brow. Most of the trees that surrounded him in his favourite forest clearing for training held deep gouges on their trunks, and the training dummies he set up was barely held together on their sticks; a testament to how often he came here to let off some steam. It was unbecoming of a future king to be seen snarling like a rabid dog while hacking at the unlucky guard who was chosen to spar with him in the castle training grounds, after all. So Bond always came here whenever he was angry or upset. He had spent the last four days in this clearing shooting arrows and stabbing dummies while pretending he was murdering Lord Blofeld. It was excellent stress relief.

 

Bond took a deep gulp from his wine-skin. The homing pigeon would have been given one day's rest before being sent home with his reply. King Q's kingdom was three days' flight away from his. The letter would be in the Boy King's hand by now. Would he be reading it in his office? Or in his bed chamber? Bond amused himself imagining the boy reading it in a sitting room while faeries crowded around him curiously. The young king was said to be either blessed by the faeries, or a descendant of one. The latter was either a compliment or an insult. It depended on who said it. The traditionalists would have certainly meant his mother committed adultery while his supporters would declare his mother must have had some faery blood because of her and her son's beauty. Some of his enemies even claimed that he was a changeling left in place of the royal baby; or that the royal couple of the Kingdom of Llewyn bargained with an evil fae or demon to have their long-awaited heir.

 

Bond could only snort when he heard people's whispers. For all that royalty and nobles liked to brag they were superior to the common populace, they were not at all different to each other at heart. Both were terrible, judgemental gossips who always scrambled for more power or wealth. It was hypocritical of him, perhaps, who had never needed to struggle for either of those things his entire life to judge people for craving them; but he always hated the endless struggle for  _more_ when those who had power and wealth hurt many and never lifted a finger to help those who had less. It was one of the ideas that he and the young king shared; that those who had more should help the poor. 

 

Grudgingly, Bond admitted that he and King Q would most likely strike a strong friendship, despite his previous misgivings. They shared many of the same ideals. Hopefully their rule wouldn't be plagued by disagreements over how the other should do their duty. Helios knew people would look at their union in askance. They would be held as an example, whether good or bad. Sighing, Bond got on his stallion, Aston of the Martin breed of horses, and rode back home.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lady Eve Moneypenny, M's favourite lady-in-waiting, was at the MI6’s gates(his late parents’ estate was more sensibly, though not by much, named Skyfall Lodge) when he arrived. He wondered what message M wanted him to have.

 

It was as he handed Aston to be cared for by the stable boy that she said, in gentle amusement, "So you've finally accepted it. And just in time, too. M was just about to send Alec down to 'talk some sense into you'. I'm glad to see it's not needed."

 

He didn't bother asking her how she knew he had made his peace with his engagement. She was simply brilliant that way. Instead, he simply said, " _Alec_ _?_ Why, by all that the Sun touches, would she send  _Alec_ of all people to give me marital advice?" Earl Alec Trevelyan had never had a serious relationship that lasted more than eight months in all his forty-seven years of life. He offered her his arm. She took it and they both entered into the castle's Great Hall.

 

"Who said Alec would be the one who gave advice? She merely had Bill write down things that worked well for him in  _his_ marriage, ordered Alec to memorize it and regurgitate it to you." She nodded to the passing servants in the Hall as they bowed to the both of them. 

 

James huffed. "Well, isn't that typical of her," he chuckled. 

 

"She never married, James. And only Bill seemed to have a happy marriage in this whole castle."

 

"There is that."

 

She leaned closer and whispered into his ear, "At least he's beautiful, James."

 

James rolled his eyes. He was familiar with how charisma and charm can distract from an unbecoming face, and since the young king had refused to have his portraits distributed, claiming that he wanted privacy, he resolved not to take all the talk of his fiancé's beauty too seriously. 

 

"Really, James? Do you think his enemies would have wasted any time to mock him for his appearance if he was not all that he was rumoured to be?"

 

"He's a man, Eve. His enemies wouldn't care about his looks. If he were a woman, it would have been a different matter."

 

Eve frowned. "For what it's worth, he was already comely at sixteen years old. Time would have only added to his beauty."

 

"You've met him before?" James asked, surprised.

 

"Only once. M sent me to play Lady Moore's lady's companion when she visited Queen Seren nine years ago. She wanted to know how the Kingdom of Llewyn was faring. You know how Old King Boothroyd was like; not at all interested with international relations. His wife ran the show on that part of his rule. He asked me, very respectfully, about the belief system of the Earth Temple. We had a great time discussing the differences in my Earth Temple, your Sun Temple and his Moon Temple." 

 

"So he is open-minded about the different religions?" James had reasoned that the young king must have been reasonably moderate when he declared that the Temple had no right to be so overbearing over his subjects’ private lives. Or maybe he just wanted more power, and the Lunar Order was inconveniently in his way. Either way, most Moon Temple worshippers, or Lunarians as they called themselves, tended to look at those who didn’t worship their Mother Goddess with revulsion at worst or amused superiority at best. He assumed the young king shared that idea but not as fervently as the Lunarians he met. Then again, the Lunarians he met tended to be old merchants. 

 

"Very. I was surprised, too. You know how the Lunar Order is like-or maybe it's  _because_ the Lunar Order consists of strict, intolerant fools that led him to be curious about foreign ideas. Maybe that was why he cut their power by separating the Temple from state affairs." Eve wondered at the courage needed to go against centuries of tradition like that.

 

"It  _is_ because of the Lunar Order's tyrannical influence that the youth celebrated when their king made that move. The elders balked at it, but the youth adored their king for standing up to the hypocrites."

 

"I heard he instituted a royal mandate that outlined what he believed to be basic freedom of his subjects. His mandate abolished the sumptuary laws, didn't it? And he forbade his subjects being forced to pray at temples."

 

"Yes, he believed if you needed dress to show you are a ruler, that means you aren't doing it right. And his mandate abolished the former once-weekly requirement to pray at a temple." Without realizing it, they had arrived at the entrance to his apartments. The guards stationed at his double doors bowed to him. He nodded his head back.

 

"Well, I'll leave you to clean up. Don't be late, James. Dinner has started without you twice now. M's patience is quickly running out." Eve pulled her arm free of his.

 

"I wasn't aware M had any in the first place."

 

Eve laughed. She reminded him again to hurry up before leaving for M's private dining room. James shook his head, grinning, before going into his bedchamber where his valet Kincade was already waiting with a set of clothing for him to change into. He quickly divested Bond of his training clothes, and Bond entered his bathing chamber to wash. He got out quickly and Kincade dressed him in a new shirt, fine blue velvet doublet, brown leather jerkin and black trousers. He handed Bond his belt and scabbard, which he quickly put on. Looking at himself in the mirror, he deemed his appearance satisfactory, thanked Kincade and strode quickly to M's dining room, his stomach demanding to be filled.

 

 

 


	3. Wednesday-Q

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used Benjamin Waughan's invention for the type of shower Q has. His invention made cold water at the top flow through pipes that were heated by hot gases from a burner at the bottom. Hot water then flowed into a sink or tub. The invention was somewhat dangerous because there was no flue to remove heated gases from the bathroom. I know nothing about plumbing, so just pretend there is a narrow corridor behind Q's bathroom where there are pipes heated using hot charcoal by servants
> 
> Lobster was so abundant that people grew sick of eating them and started feeding it to servants and animals. It only became a luxury food in late 1800s, lost popularity in the great depression, and became popular again in 1950s.
> 
> https://www.nature.com/news/moon-s-pull-can-trigger-big-earthquakes-1.20551 
> 
> A study’s found the moon can increase the probability of a tsunami happening

Seven in the morning came to Q far too soon. Groaning, Q flung his hand over his eyes when R drew back the drapes and let the sunlight in. R, long since used to Q’s morning dramatics, pulled his blankets away for good measure. Toby and Henry hissed in protest. 

 

A grumbling Q gently pushed Toby and Henry to the side. He sat up and drank from the pitcher of water and cup on his bedside table. Once he finished his drink, he got out of bed. His bare feet sank into the thick bearskin rug that covered the cold stone floor. Q went into his bathing chamber. It was a room of white marble with a painted ceiling. The ceiling portrayed the Moon Goddess going into the sea. The walls and pillars were also decorated with seashells, corals and paintings of sea specimens. The chamber held a water closet, a bidet, a sink with a small shelf on top of it where vials of floral waters laid, and a tub with a shower attached. He relieved himself and thanked Selene for the invention of plumbing, and wondered why his father didn't want to install it. It certainly beat out having to toss the contents of a chamberpot into a cesspool, or going to a privy. He pitied the chambermaids whose job was to clean out the pots. He left the chamber and expected R to dress him in the tunic and trousers he normally wore for his morning walk, yet R wasn’t holding clothes.

 

At Q’s confused look, R said “I know you haven’t slept well these past few days, Q. I think it’s high time for you to take a day off, don’t you think? What if you resume your sleep after breakfast? It’s not as though you have anything important today.”

 

Q crossed his arms and gave R an unimpressed stare. “It’s  _Wednesday_ , R. I can’t simply take a day off in the middle of the week.”

 

”Yes you can. You’re  _king_.”

 

”Exactly! I need to set an example. Ready me for the day.” 

 

“Q, you’ve got bags under your eyes because you worried incessantly over Prince Bond’s response. I can't blame you, marriage changes your life-no wonder you've been nervous. Today you’re going to read his acceptance or rejection. Give yourself a treat and let yourself rest.”

 

At Q’s obstinate silence, R sighed and used his ultimate weapon when it came to Q. “Look, Q. What if you don’t rule effectively because you’re tired? It’s better to rest now than to do something wrong and regret it.”

 

Q faltered. “I’m not that tired.”

 

”Really now? Come on, Q. You’re the type to need a deep sleep to be in a good mood for the day. You haven’t had it for a week. Set an example to your people of a king who knows when to take breaks whenever necessary.”

 

Q relented. “Alright. Tell Merope to bring my breakfast up sooner.”

 

R grinned. “There’s no need, Q. It’s half past eight already. The food’s already on your table.”

 

”You planned this. You woke me up late.” Q said accusingly. R normally woke Q up at seven so he could walk for an hour and wash before breaking his fast.

 

”Yes.” R admitted shamelessly, his blue eyes shining with mirth. “Now come on, let’s eat.” R pulled the door that connected Q’s bed chamber to his sitting room and waited for Q to leave. 

 

Q sighed and went through the doorway. As he did, he caught R’s brown mop of hair bobbing because his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Q could only roll his eyes. Toby and Henry followed in Q's wake.

 

R sped past Q and opened the door to his private dining chamber. His Royal Housekeeper Merope was already waiting with her hands clasped together demurely. Her brows rose when she saw he was meeting her in only his nightclothes, something he only did on weekends, but made no comment. His dining table had a lavish spread of food. The cats went to the corner where the silver dishes with their names inscribed had a fish each.

 

”Good morning, Your Grace.” She curtsied at him.

 

”Good morning to you too, Merope. Would you mind explaining why my table resembles a feast instead of a breakfast?” Q gestured at the many different dishes on plate stands. Feasts in the Kingdom of Llewyn consisted of many courses carefully proportioned so diners could eat a wide variety of food without being too full halfway through the meal. Normally, the next course would be brought out one after another as soon as diners finished the last course, but Merope simply put all the dishes on the table.

 

“It was Robert’s idea, sire.” Merope always delighted in annoying R by calling him Robert instead of the letter he and Q decided upon as children.

 

R had been a nameless orphan Q found hiding from the rain in the stables. Q bestowed the name R when his new playmate admitted to having no name. R ended up being trained to be Q’s valet. When the other servants asked what R was short for, he panicked and said Robert, after a strange name he heard foreign sailors from his original port town saying. The people of Llewyn didn’t name their children Robert, and his name was found to be an oddity. Everybody simply called him R because it was much less outlandish than Robert, especially because Q had started a trend of children being called by the first letter of their names because he disliked his first name, and the panicked response was forgotten by everyone except for Merope.

 

”Don’t blame me, Your Grace. I just asked Merope to give you a treat because you’ve been having a rough week. I thought she’d give you a cup of chocolate or some macaroons, not a feast.” 

 

Q couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, R, Merope, for taking care of me. It’s a very nice surprise.”

 

R and Merope smiled back. “It was our pleasure, sire.” They said simultaneously. 

 

“How should I set the menu for luncheon and dinner, sire?” Merope asked.

 

Since Q didn’t have a wife to run his household, his Royal Housekeeper was the one who kept the household accounts and organize the servants. It also meant she asked him what he wanted to have for his meals.

  

"Some rosemary chicken and beef cooked in black pepper sauce. Prepare rice and boil some carrots. I'll have a slice of blueberry pie for dessert." Dessert wasn't a very popular course in the Kingdom of Llewyn, but Q's fondness for sweets made its popularity rise.

 

”Yes, Your Grace. And dinner?”

 

”I’ll have potatoes and some fish baked with cheese. A pear too.”

 

“I’ll tell the cook to prepare it. May I be excused, Your Grace?”

 

”You may.”

 

Merope curtsied and took her leave. Q turned his attention to the food. There were two plates of each dish. The plates had no more than three bites for each dish, except for the sautéed buttery potatoes. There were several small pork pies, a breaded cutlet of chicken gently fried in oil, meatballs with sauce, roasted quail, cheesy spinach and roast tomato soup. There was a bowl filled with crème brûlée, a plate of ice with sliced apples on top with a small saucer of honey next to it, and some cheesecake. Q’s favourite Earl Grey was steaming gently in his tea set.

 

R whistled. “Merope really outdid herself today.” Valets ate with the king, and thus had the same dishes. The king would sit on the head of the table with his breakfast while the valet would sit by his side with the same amount and type of food. The valet was required to pause his meal whenever the king gestured for his goblet to be refilled. It was why breakfast tended not to be too lavish, as the valet needed to pay attention to the king. It was the same with other personal attendants: ladies-in-waiting, nursemaids and governesses also dined with the royal family. The official reason was to show appreciation for the staff, but the real reason was that servants would be much less likely to spread gossip about the royal family's private matters if they felt they were acknowledged. Q wasn't too worried about R spilling his secrets any time soon.

 

"Indeed. The servants would be eating well today." While households had a budget for servants' meals, it was an open secret that servants always cooked more than what was needed so they could also have the food their masters ate. Household budgets took that into account, and though on paper servants seemed to eat too little and their masters too much; servants in the Kingdom of Llewyn tended to be fed better then their foreign counterparts, who had to rely only on their budget allowance and whatever leftovers their masters gave them.

 

* * *

 

Breakfast was over. R was piling the dirty dishes on the dumbwaiter Q had installed so the chambermaids wouldn't need to carry them all to the kitchens two floors below while also carrying heavy cleaning supplies.

 

Q was sipping some Earl Grey, Henry on his lap and Toby sprawling over the table like it was his own; devising a new type of plate that could hold heat when R gently tapped his shoulder.

 

"Q? Come on-you need to wash up. I told the servants you're going to rest today, and heat the pipes at nine-thirty to ten."

 

Q nodded, put Henry next to Toby and went back into his bathing chamber. His cats followed him. Q and R had long since given up trying to keep them out and had put cushioned stools next to the bathtub for them to sit in. It was there they quickly made themselves at home while they watched Q clean himself. He wrapped his hair in a small towel before he turned on the tap, brushed his teeth and washed his face using the rosewater. He got into his tub and turned on the shower. Hot water flowed out. Q couldn't help but sigh when he felt the water spray him. The combined heat and pressure was lovely. Q wetted his body before he opened the small cabinet beside his tub that held his oils, soaps and bath salts. He used his lavender soap to clean his body. Once he rinsed off, he dried himself before calling out to R to bring him new clothes.

 

R arrived in the bathroom with a fresh shift and morning robe; and dressed Q in them. Q thanked R before he went back into bed. Toby followed him while Henry stayed on his stool because he fell asleep. R didn't close the door fully so Henry could go out when he woke up. R closed Q's drapes again before leaving Q's apartments. He needed to pick up the clothes Q ordered for his cats, and to replace Q's witch hazel water, which was running out. He also needed to pick up Q's new robes-

 

On second thought, they could wait. There was plenty of work to be done where he could stay near Q. R went back into Q's bedchamber and went into his closet. He started shining Q's(impeccably clean) favourite shoes. There was that tear near the hem of Q's trousers, and the lace on one of Q's morning robes was ripped. Oh, and Q's closet could do with a bit of reorganizing. The cats’ beds and ribbons could use a good brushing, too. 

 

* * *

 

Q was woken up by R again at one in the afternoon. Henry was already cutting the blood supply of his arm, while Toby had snuggled into Q’s back when he laid on his side. R already had a bed tray with Q's luncheon and letters. Q ate his lunch in bed, feeling decadent and somewhat guilty for his idleness. The cats begged for food, but Q ignored them with no small degree of strength. Q also read and responded to his letters. He had to resist the urge to pretend he hadn’t seen Prince Bond’s reply. It was silly, especially when he was the one who proposed in the first place, but he wasn’t as ready and accepting of this whole marriage thing as he thought. The first letter he read was from his mother, urging him to get married soon. Q decided not to write back until he read Prince Bond's reply.

 

The second was from his father. His father wrote about his new aviary, and the brilliance of the ice boxes he had invented. The ice boxes had allowed seafood to be brought from the coast to the inner cities. His parents had moved to a small house five miles from Mooncliff, the capital city his castle was in; claiming they wanted peace and quiet while still being close enough to visit him occasionally. Henry started pawing at Q’s hand, wanting scratches. Q scritched his chin while he read his father’s letter.

 

 _Seren has us eat fish and oysters three times a week, Q. I don't mind, I love oysters. Your mother has a particular fondness for lobster. Did you know, it was actually a mistake? Lobsters are normally used for animal feed, but the cook was sick and her assistant stepped in. Well, being from the mountains, she confused the crab and lobster together. To be fair, she was very new, and Seren told her to get the hard-shelled animal with pincers. She bought it and cooked it in white sauce. It turned out lovely, but we started a trend and I'm afraid it may incite anger for farmers near the coast. The prices are rising. We don't want to give up lobster, but we don't want farmers to spend more on feed. Can you solve this problem, my dear boy?_ His father wrote.

 

Ah. That explained those rumours of the Farmers Guild and Fishermen Guild wanting a meeting with him. R said last week he overheard a couple of servant girls, one of whom had come from the seaside, talking about how the farmers near the coast was all aflutter and wanted to petition the king. R didn't get close enough to hear what for before he was spotted and scolded for eavesdropping. He wrote back, saying the guilds wanted to meet him in open court sessions and to not worry. He sealed it the envelope and R handed him his signet ring to stamp the wax. Toby suddenly popped up on Q’s lap, between the bed tray and his torso. Q jerked and almost tore his ring out before the wax hardened. Q stroked Toby several times, and Toby purred before napping on Q’s lap.

 

The third letter was from King John. Q grimaced, wanting to burn the blasted thing to ashes, but slit the envelope open while imagining it was King John's neck instead. The contents were what he expected: compliments on his beauty and charm, admiration at his wealth, and pleas for him to reconsider his rejection. R said, wryly, "I don't understand why you reply to every single letter he sends, Q. I know you want to destroy the bloody thing." Henry, jealous of Toby, started batting at the sleeve of Q’s morning robe.

 

Q rolled his eyes. "It's my duty as a king to read every letter sent to me by fellow rulers, no matter how terrible they are." He had scarcely written 'Dear Sir' when R interrupted.

 

"'Dear'? Q, he'll think you like him and send another letter!"

 

Q wondered when exactly he acquired another cat who was fond of interrupting his work.

 

"It's the proper form of address between two reigning monarchs, R, as you very well know." 

 

"He's not a monarch, he's a troll flopping on a throne."

 

Q couldn't help but giggle. 

 

"All jokes aside, the last letter he sent two days ago was going too far. I can't believe I once wanted him to marry you. I can't believe he'd dared-"

 

"By the light of the Goddess, don't remind me," Q shuddered. "And quit peeping at my correspondence-I told you to burn that filth he sent, not read it." King John had sent him a letter that read like something straight out of a crescent thriller; full of obscene, lewd imaginings that were anatomically impossible-or at the very least, require lots of stretching. Q snorted at the accidental pun he made. Q had thrown the two sheets of vellum on his coffee table and swept out of his sitting room after reading it two days ago, face flushed, and told R to burn it. Yet R had obviously secreted the letter away and read it.

 

"Do I want to know what you're laughing at, Q?" R's long, straight nose wrinkled. His thick brows creased. Q was certain telling him would make his round face turn red as a ruby. "And you can hardly blame me; you look so disgusted I can't help but filch the pervert's letter instead of burning it like you asked. I only read it today, and I regret saying he would be a good match for you."

 

"You don't want to know, R. And you don't need to regret anything, I didn't exactly tell you King John is a dirty lech-speaking of which, I sent him a cease and desist letter in response to the filth he sent me, but it obviously had no effect. It seems I would have to keep my word on the embargo I threatened." Q went back to writing.

 

_Dear Sir,_

_You disgust me. I have rejected you time and time again, and had sent you a letter requesting there be no contact between us that does not involve state matters, yet you continue on with your unwanted advances. It is for this reason that I have declared an embargo on any kind of trade with the Kingdom of Uplein. There shall be no sale of food, jewels, metals, and textiles of any kind to the Kingdom of Uplein until you have given me a sincere apology. Any of my people who had resided there would be recalled. May Selene bring destruction on you and yours by Her mastery of the seas._

_Regards,_

_King Quasar Boothroyd_

 

R snickered. Q glared at him in response. “Quasar,” he snorted. “ _Quasar._ No wonder you insisted on being called Q.”

 

”Oh, shut up. There is about fifty people in Uplein right now, people I need to calm down and compensate.” Just thinking of the merchants complaining about losing profits gave him a headache.

 

Q put the letter in an envelope and sealed it. R looked quite impatient to send it out with a pigeon. Feeling mischievous, Q gave R King John's letter and said "You can dispose of this any way you like, R." Q had no doubt R would find a creative way to vent his frustration at King John on the letter.

 

R's eyes lit up. "I'm using this as toilet wipes, then I'm getting rid of it by flushing it down the bog."

 

"If the pipes become clogged, I'll pay the plumbers by docking your salary." Q replied, lips twitching.

 

"It's only asheet of vellum, it can't possibly make any problems." R replied hesitantly.

 

"Better to not risk it. Find another way."

 

"Then I'll burn it over the toilet bowl, and flush the ashes away."

 

Q laughed. "Let's do it together this evening, I want to watch."

 

"Yes, let's."

 

Q opened the fourth letter. It turned out to be a love poem. It was from Lord Aerglo. Q’s eyebrow twitched as he read its contents. R laughed until tears ran down his face. Henry meowed inquisitively.

 

“Selene’s shine, Q! Seriously? Skin soft and white as clouds, eyes green as the mountain lights? Hah!”

 

”It’s not very bad.”

 

”Will your rejection make things awkward during open court? I bet the other nobles would love to make fun of him.” There were ten lords in Q’s kingdom. Four were his staunch supporters, three were only following him because of tradition or he was benefitting them, three wanted to get rid of him. Lord Aerglo was one of Q’s most avid supporters.

 

”Either way, you said you wanted your marriage to form an alliance with a foreign country, so you have to reject him.”

 

”Yes, I do. But the least I can do is to compliment his poetry skills.” Q felt sorry for the young lord as he finished his reply. 

 

The fifth letter was Prince Bond’s reply. Q’s fingers hovered over the parchment. Steeling himself, he opened the envelope and read. 

 

_Your Grace, King Q,_

_I was delighted to read your letter. I accept your proposal, as I cannot envision any spouse more accomplished or intelligent than Your Grace. If Your Grace permits it, I would like to invite Your Grace to the capital of my kingdom, the city of Crowstar, to begin the courtship. May the Sun and Helios bring fortune and health upon you._

 

_Yours Sincerely,_

_His Royal Highness, Prince James Bond_

 

”I’m engaged.”

 

”Congratulations.”

 

”R, I’m _engaged_.”

 

”I gathered that the first time you said it.”

 

Q made a strangled sound in his throat. R looked concerned, despite his flippant tone. Toby stood up on his hindlegs with his forelegs on Q’s chest, and nuzzled his neck curiously. Q petted him before pushing him down.

 

Q exhaled. He wrote his assent, and wrote another letter to his steward to begin preparing for a sea voyage to the north. He wrote his mother to tell her he was already engaged, and to ask for advice regarding courting gifts. He gave the letters to R so he could bring it to the pigeon master.

 

”I suppose this means you can stop hovering around me needlessly, R. Don’t give me that look, I know you’ve been neglecting your duties this past week.” Q gave R a stern stare.

 

”Alright, I admit it-I haven't picked up the cats’ clothes and those new half-robes you ordered.” R uttered.

 

”Half-robes? Really, R?”

 

”Well, what else are you supposed to call a short robe with the front cut away that’s supposed to be worn with trousers?”

 

”That is actually a rather apt name. Fine-pick up my half-robes, the cats’ coats, the witch hazel water and my green coat.” 

 

“Why would you even need those ridiculous new clothes anyway, Q?”

 

”Because foreigners laugh behind my back over how the men of my people wear skirts like a woman. There is nothing wrong with being a woman or wearing robes, but I would appreciate being taken more seriously, which is why I decided to create half-robes. Now dress me in my inventing clothes, I have an idea I want to develop with the Royal Engineers. Then you can go finish your duties.”

 

”Yes, sire.”

 


	4. Wednesday-Bond & Q

"So, James," Alec said, grinning, "When's the wedding?"

 

The cupbearer Robert's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. Not that it was part of his job description; doing so would have resulted in a reprimand.

 

James rolled his eyes. M sent him a reproachful look which he blithely ignored. 

 

"A year from the day he sets foot in my kingdom. My intended wants us to court - preferably here - for that long, as his proposal said."

 

"Courting?" Alec was incredulous. "Why not wed immediately?"

 

James couldn't blame him, it really was a most unusual situation. Marriages, especially for those of rank, were for forming alliances or consolidating wealth and power, not for love, and thus was done as quickly as possible. Courting in a political marriage was seen as 'useless faffing about', in the words of James' childhood tutors.

 

"I have no idea what his motivation is. All I know is that it is his condition." James raised his goblet at Robert. He needed more wine for this conversation. The cupbearer obliged.

 

"I wager he wants you and our kingdom to get used to the idea of marriage with a man." M interjected. She ordered Robert out of her dining chamber. He bowed before leaving the room. "You've been with women for forty years, James. Being with a man, it's only recently stopped being viewed negatively in this country. In King Q's, it's regarded with a strange indifference until the Lunar Order started their hardline stance last century, upon which it became a repulsive thing. Up until that point, they believe it is a private thing and thus not for public discussion, but pushed aside into shadows. It's only until King Q's reign that it was seen as equal to regular man-woman marriages."

 

"But what about  _our_ laws?" Eve spoke up. "King Q's laws accept man-man unions, but ours doesn't. Nor of woman-woman unions."

 

"And that is the crux of the matter. The courting period is a veil over the obstacle-the public's acceptance."

 

"I thought you said our people love his ideas." James' eyes narrowed.

 

"They do. They love that he declared everyone should be free to love whoever they want. But that doesn't mean marrying the same gender still isn't seen as an oddity, or that there are fools declaring sodomites and lesbians shouldn't marry. You courting him instead of immediately marrying would show our people that such unions is a valid form of love. I have already dictated a decree stating that men and women are allowed to marry the same gender. It would be announced at the next open court session."

 

"There will be riots." Eve sounded worried.

 

"I have commanded Duke Mallory to increase the patrols around the kingdom and castle. The riots and violence will be handled." M cut a piece of steak and chewed on it.

 

"What about calling for sodomites and lesbians to attend the announcement of the decree so they can say how they feel about it?" Alec suggested. Everyone turned to look at the Earl. "It would help people accept the new law, when they see how the people who would be affected by it feel."

 

"Excellent suggestion, Alec," M praised him. "I would announce it tomorrow. Next week's open court session should give them enough time to assemble."

 

"You should make it illegal to insult or treat them badly because of their leanings, Your Majesty," Eve said. "That way it would be safe for them to speak up."

 

"I will call Tanner when dinner is over. Thank you, Eve."

 

"You're welcome, Your Majesty."

 

M shot James a meaningful look. James barely held in a growl. M expected him to contribute to political discussions and plans like Eve and Alec did, but currently he couldn't. His nerves were shot to Darkness, even though he'd never admit it. Scowling, he took his gravy boat and dumped nearly all its contents on his steak.

 

"I'll have mistresses," James announced. "I have not the slightest attraction to men, and keeping several women on the side would make everything much more bearable."

 

"And if it gets out?" Eve glared at him. "He'd be shamed, and you will be seen as proof men can't love each other."

 

"It won't happen."

 

"For his sake, I hope so."

 

"I'll give you several brothels' cards as a wedding present, then," Alec joked.

 

"Enough of this talk," M declared. "James - if you want a mistress, you will tell it to him directly, and you will make sure he doesn't have a problem with it. Alec, if the woman you supply turns out to be a common blackmailer, I will take it out on your hide. Eve - I need you to make sure James' mistress isn't a spy or something equally sordid."

 

"M, you make me sound like a procurer," Alec protested.

 

"You are," James shot back.

 

"Didn't I say  _enough_?" M hissed. "Change the conversation to another subject."

 

Eve giggled, but she started talking about her latest man, and the rest of dinner was spent discussing whether or not Knight Richeut was suitable for her.

 

* * *

 

"My King!" R shouted loudly, running to Q. The footmen manning the double doors to the Office of the Royal Engineers looked puzzled.

 

Q looked up from the diagrams he was drawing. R didn't look worried, which meant he must bring good news. It must be a truly joyful thing because R looked so excited. Q put his pencil down on his slanted desk's quill ledge, named for a time not too long ago when quills were the only writing implement used, and stood up.

 

R stopped in front of Q, out of breath. R panted out "The Royal Parents are here!"

 

"My parents are here?"

 

"Yes, Your Grace! I was surprised, too-they don't come here anymore except for celebrations, but I saw them near the Great Hall as I was heading down the stairs from Sire's suite."

 

Q turned to his engineers, or minions, as R liked to call them. "I'm sorry that I will have to leave early. I trust there is no problem if I see my parents?"

 

A chorus of 'No, Your Grace's was heard. Q nodded, straightened his tunic and trousers and went to his sitting room.

 

 

 

 

Q's parents were already sipping tea when he arrived. Henry was sprawled over his mother's lap while his father was scratching Toby's neck, who was curled in a loaf next to him. R went to Q's room, presumably to do his duties. Q knew that R would crack the door open just a little and eavesdrop.

 

"Q!" Princess Seren put down her teacup and stood up when R opened the door. She had long, lustrous knee-length dark curls which was currently loose and unbound. Her heart-shaped face, almost retroussé nose, flawless skin, high cheekbones and emerald green eyes ensured that she was among the most beautiful women in the land, even at fifty-five. Her wide, thin, ruby red lips were stretched in a brilliant grin. Q's father sat across her. He had chin-length straight silver hair, grey eyes, a hawk nose, and square jaws. 

 

"You brilliant boy! You have made a most excellent choice!" She went up to him and gave him a hug and kiss. Q laughed and hugged his mother back. She drew back, beaming, and it was then Q saw what his mother wore.

 

Q's brows rose. She was wearing a pair of what looked to him to be some form of the stays that was currently all the rage in his kingdom that encased her from hips to mid-bust over a burgundy wool dress with puffed upper sleeves and tightly fitted lower sleeves. She saw his confusion and grinned.

 

"It's beautiful, don't you think?" She gestured at the shimmery green velvet stays. "I know that it's technically supposed to be underwear in the kingdom it originates in, but the stays that were first imported were simply too pretty to be unseen, so all the women here wore it as outerwear. The dressmakers made a more vest-like masculine version because of the current trends, so I asked for one pair to be made and dyed using algae, and the result was amazing." Stays originated in King Lief's country seventy years ago. The most formal women's gowns were all boned, but regular gowns were unboned and the women relied on boned undergarments for support. Those who could afford it had them made out of beautiful silks, while the less fortunate used regular dyed linen, and the poorest used leather. The merchants who first brought the stays into the Kingdom of Llewyn had sold them to the wealthy, thinking the women would love prettily-made undergarments, despite the fact that they were unnecessary because dresses in the kingdom were properly fitted to provide support for the bust, but the local women had adapted them into outerwear instead, so they could be seen and supported the women. 

 

"It suits you perfectly, Mother," Q kissed her cheek. He went to his father and hugged him. 

 

"How have you been, Father?" Q smiled. "Are your lungs doing alright?"

 

"Yes, they are. I swear to Selene, every person asks me that. 'How are your lungs, sire?' and 'Don't do that, sire, your lungs will be hurt'. I hear that all day long. We should just include it in the official etiquette: How to Address the Royal Father's Lungs." Circinus Boothroyd cupped his son's face and kissed his hair. 

 

Q laughed. "I'll make sure to order the archivists to put it in the Courtly Code of Conduct," he teased. "It can't be helped-you abdicated because of your poor health, after all." He sat beside his father, their shoulders touching. His mother went back to her seat. Circinus was wearing a faded yellow woolen _house robe_ , of all things. His parents must have went here in a hurry-Mother would have gotten her hair properly braided if she had the time. Father must have been in their garden or library, far away from Mother's boudoir so she had had the time to change from house clothes and gotten in the carriage while the footman had given Father his letter. Father had walked slower because his lungs couldn't handle the strain of rushing, so he must have gotten into the carriage without changing so he could get here faster.

 

"I believe you two wish to discuss my engagement?" Q asked.

 

"Yes." His father sighed. "I know that what Seren and I did was highly unusual, but I hoped you could replicate our success. But  _Prince Bond_? My son, he's old-and there was never any hint of an attraction to men." Circinus and Seren had married out of love-a rarity, especially for a royal prince and the daughter of an impoverished noble. 

 

"It had to be done."

 

"Our son made a good match, Circinus. You know that Q could not have chosen a better husband." Princess Seren told her husband.

 

"That may be so, but there are other more suitable royals. Why not marry an Eastern prince, Q? You know sodomites are seen neutrally there; and they even have a system for women to carry married men's heirs. You'll have a large military  _and_ some nice trade deals on valuable imports." The Eastern Lands referred to the continent of Atuth; where the countries of Thueq, Kothal, Esheau and Ushye resided. Thueq produced silk, tea, and blue-patterned bone-white porcelain; and recently, a dog breed with a smushed face called worshun. Kothal had their own red and black porcelain, various sauces from their native flora and fauna; and valuable lacquered furniture. Esheau exported rare gemstones, fine steeds called numvese, and a hot-tasting plant called blister herb by outsiders that had the native name of uchotro. Ushye exported their native woods, liquors, furs from their animals, and exotic fruits, though there was talk of them exporting their birds as pets. Q hoped they would, as his father would love to have a colourful arnah; a large orange bird with a magnificent scarlet plume and long tail feathers. 

 

"It would take them three months of sea travel to send my husband-to-be, and that is if they have good weather conditions. It could take them twice that long if there are storms, three times if the voyage got truly unlucky. Meanwhile, King Carac of the Ablos Archipelago is readying his army, King John could try to invade, and Emperor Jykid is talking about sending an assassin!" Q groaned. He massaged his temples. "Carac's land is a month away,  John's land is about three weeks away, and Jykid's army will take two months to come here. Prince Bond's kingdom is a month away from mine,  _and_ his kingdom has the biggest army of them all. He's the best choice, Father."

 

Princess Seren scowled. "Carac? Oh, those Selene-damned idiots," she hissed. "Are they still shrieking over how we supposedly 'stole' their glass?"

 

Q nodded tiredly. Circinus shook his head. 

 

"The Ablish has a long history of contact and marriages with our southern coast, it's not unreasonable for  _some_ of their people who married ours to tell stories of how to make glass, that pledge they make the Garpids Isle people take be damned. And besides, didn't Lord Eldoris say the discovery of how to make glass truly was an accident?"

 

"They wouldn't listen, Father. I told them countless times that our southern coastal people figured out heating sand made glass by luck, when Master Haf, the blacksmith involved, got drunk and put sand in his forge just for fun, but they didn't believe me. It's understandable, because the Shadow Pox emergence a hundred years ago took out most of their glass-making population and caused a huge drop in their wealth. Seeing another nation figure out the secret to the cultural heritage that they lost must have incensed them." Q replied. A hundred years ago, the Ablish in the Garpids Isle made beautiful glass creations. They were commissioned by the wealthy and aristocrats to make stained windows, or create beautiful glass figurines, or delicate dinnerware. But after the Pox appeared, they were wiped out, and with them, their trade secrets. 

 

"You offered to create a guild consisting of the Ablish and our own people for joint glass-making, but they refused. They just want the money from their old monopoly of the glass trade," Seren comforted Q. 

 

"I know, Mother. Sometimes I just want to deck Carac in the face. And I thought of feeding his pigeon to my cats more than once."

 

"Don't-give it to me instead. He'll be well-fed and cared for," Circinus grinned at Q. 

 

Seren sighed. " _Another_ bird, Circinus? Our garden will be overtaken by your aviaries and enclosures! I won't have another bird."

 

"You're just saying that because Nova tore up your lavenders, dear," Circinus replied.

 

"Father, I thought you said you put the birds in a spot far away from Mother's plants?" Q asked. Mother had written him letters complaining good-naturedly of how Father spent longer in his part of the garden than with her some days. 

 

"I did, but Nova flew out of his pen and got into your mother's plants. You're not angry anymore about that, are you, love?"

 

"I'm not-I'm  _furious_. That stupid peacock of yours ruined my new lavenders."

 

"What if I get you a water garden to make up for it, dear?" Q instantly knew his father wanted something. A new plant as a gift was not out of the ordinary, but an extravagant gift meant he was about to ask something his mother wouldn't immediately agree to. Last year, Father got a concession for Nova by giving Mother a silver chatelaine set, which had been fashionable then.

 

Mother's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

 

"Nothing." Q had to give his father credit for his innocent expression.

 

"If it's another bird-I won't agree to it."

 

"I was actually thinking of getting a pair of hyacinth macaws, to be put in our house," Father admitted sheepishly. 

 

Mother sighed. "They're big and loud. Their food is expensive."

 

"They're also incredibly beautiful and make good companions."

 

"Then I want koi in the water garden."

 

Father winced. "Alright," he conceded.

 

Q rolled his eyes. "Are you two staying for dinner?" he asked.

 

"Of course we will, you silly boy. It's not every day we learn our son is engaged. We're celebrating today. Speaking of which, when are you announcing it?"

 

"Tomorrow, Father." Q reached for his father's now-cold cup of tea and started drinking it. Chamomile-Merope knew his father needed soothing.

 

"A good decision. I'd love to see your opponents' faces when you say you're engaged. I just hope Aerglo wouldn't be too torn up about it."

 

Q choked on his tea. Father patted his back, looking concerned.

 

"For such an incredibly intelligent boy, Q, you can be truly oblivious at times," Seren sighed. "Anyone with eyes knows he's besotted with you, my boy."

 

"I didn't. And I already rejected him."

 

"Oh?" Father looked unduly interested.

 

"He wrote me a love poem."

 

"Ah."

 

"Why did King John want to invade, Q? I know he's a war-hungry idiot, but why exactly do you think he can be a threat? I forgot to ask." Mother said. The sudden change in topic threw Q for a loop. 

 

"I set an embargo, because I told him to stop sending me letters beyond state matters after he wrote me perverted filth and he ignored me."

 

"You did the right thing, dear."

 

Father exploded in rage. "Why that little-I'll take his head off!"

 

"Your lungs can't handle it, dear," Seren replied dryly. She ignored him cursing the Shadow Pox under his breath for affecting his lungs. "Are you alright, my boy?"

 

"Yes, Mother. Though R and I planned on burning his letter and flushing it down the loo this evening."

 

"Can we join in after dinner?" Father interjected.

 

"Definitely. Speaking of which, it's six already." Q gestured at the sundial outside. "The evening meal should be brought in by now. Let's go to my dining chamber. I'll write a note to be dropped with the dumbwaiter for the kitchens to send up food for you."

 

The family moved to the dining chamber, bouncing ideas around for courting gifts.

 

 


	5. Thursday-Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usage of era-appropriate words for sex workers. Sorry for any offence caused. If I wrote a sex worker wrong, please tell me.
> 
> Spot the references to my favourite show! :D
> 
> Apple-dumpling shop is an authentic 18th-century slang word for bosom.
> 
> Make a great harvest of a little corn-much ado about nothing
> 
> Pintle-a penis
> 
> Full as a goat-very drunk
> 
> Comb-brush: lady's maid
> 
> Gammon-nonsense
> 
> Swear like a cutter-swear violently
> 
> I LOVE historical slang, they're so funny.

 

 

"-a girdle, but-James, are you even listening to me?" Eve glared at him. "You came here to ask me what courting gifts you should give King Q and you're not paying attention at all!"

 

"Forgive me, Eve. Can you please repeat what you said? I lost you around the third perfume you mentioned," James replied. He took a deep gulp of his coffee. M had purposefully given him less duties for the week so he could 'sulk out of sight', according to Eve. He had taken advantage of his increased time off by training and spending nights with as many willing women as he could find for the last three days. But this Thursday afternoon, he decided to remember his responsibilities as a prince and had visited Eve in her rooms for pointers on gifts he should offer the Boy King.

 

"The third? Oh, fine! The third perfume is a blend made by Perfumer Gregory. It consists of oils from cinnamon, cloves, mace and nutmegs. The fourth is made by Perfumer Gisellee-she mixed tangerine oil and black pepper oil. The fifth is Perfumer Tilla's autumn blend. It has Uplein fir, cinnamon, cardamon, and clove oils."

 

"You know all that by smelling them?" James asked, amazed. There was no way perfumers would give away the contents of their products, so Eve must have worked it out on her own.

 

"Yes." She answered smugly. "I was a perfumer's shop girl-I learned what I could from things I saw and overheard. Then M came along. I still make perfumes in my spare time, though."

 

"I still have no idea how you went from being a regular working girl to being the Queen's favourite lady-in-waiting," James said.

 

"I was hardly a 'regular working girl'-I didn't come from a servant background. I worked for Perfumer Jannet because my parents gambled away their fortunes." Her lips quirked sadly. "She gave her workers lodgings and food, which meant more money for my parents to pay back their debts. She was horrid, though-overbearing and rude to those she sees as beneath her. And the black fallen landed gentry's daughter is the lowest of the lot. She still thinks people like me ought to be property, regardless of the fact that it was outlawed a hundred and twenty-one years ago. I got treated the worst, but I endured because if I got kicked out my parents had less money. The other servants were all too gleeful in joining with her to mistreat me. I suppose they were happy to see one of the former 'fancy ladies' fall, or maybe because-" she gestured to her face. 

 

James listened avidly. When Eve suddenly appeared beside M one day, he had assumed she was the secret bastard daughter of a particularly decent nobleman with considerable wealth and influence; as he had never seen or heard of her in court, who was employed by M as a favour to her father. It was a surprise when he walked in to M's sitting room for tea one day and saw her imitate her mistress from her days in the perfume shop to cheer M up after she dealt with a particularly impudent courtier. He had thought, given the fact her father cared enough to set her up with M, that he must have given her mother enough Solar Drams for them to live like noblewomen, who didn't need to work. He didn't ask just who her father was, or why she needed to work, figuring that she'd tell him if she wanted to. Hearing she was fallen gentry was a surprise. It turned out he didn't know her as well as he thought.

 

"Forgive me if I'm being rude and insensitive, Eve, but I thought you'd be accomplished enough to work a more highly-paid job." 

 

Eve harrumphed. "I suppose you're thinking I should be a lady's companion or maid; or maybe a quilter, or an embroiderer, or even a tassel-maker. Unfortunately, none of those jobs were available for me. I'm from Lightkeep. Remember the Shadow Pox outbreak there eighteen years ago? It made all the ships avoid our Daycoln Harbour and go west to Edgestar Landing. My parents were merchants, and they lost a great deal of profits. I suppose that was when their gambling started-I don't remember, I was only ten when it happened. I was more concerned with why we suddenly moved north to a boarding house and with my games of make-believe with dolls. When the outbreak stopped after two years, we went back, but the ships didn't. Edgestar had firmly established itself in people's minds. My parents' gambling, which had at first been a diversion from the red numbers in our ledger, truly became a problem."

 

"It consumed them-almost like the way the Shadow Pox infected people. Slowly they become lethargic, then grey, then they fall over and have a fever where they lay there wheezing; a washed-out version of themselves. Then the foul-smelling boils start appearing and the afflicted coughs blood. That's the way it was with my parents. First, it was just for fun. Then slowly, it was all they could think about. They barely act like my parents, they feel like strangers. Then they start bleeding out money and they couldn't care despite how much it hurt us." There was a flush in her cheeks now.

 

"The ships' disappearance affected everyone. All of us lost wealth. All the dressmakers but one went bankrupt, and only one of the three perfumers survived. Many workers moved out. No one worked my parents' land anymore. So my parents used their savings-and they drained my dowry so I couldn't even marry well and save our fortune. By the time I was twenty, we were well and truly penniless. At least my parents gambled a lot less. Father tried to sell our land, but no one wanted to buy land in a dying town. We weren't in the country, so it's not like some rich man can turn our home into his country retreat, and Lightkeep's beaches are all rock and grey water-no one wanted the view. Dressmaker Sarah didn't need anyone. So I worked for Perfumer Jannet to assuage the creditors. I couldn’t move out to look for work in another city because if I did, my parents would increase their gambling and worsen our situation.”

 

"I worked in that damned place for two years - two Dark-steeped years. Then M appeared. She said one of Perfumer Jannet's blends was worn by her then-secretary, Andrion, and she wanted to see who made such a wonderful scent. It was a lie, of course. M simply wanted to scare off the smuggler boats rumoured to be lurking near Daycoln to see if they can set up a base of operations there. She figured showing up would scare them off. You should have seen Perfumer Jannet-she looked like a dog who was about to piss itself from excitement."

 

James snorted at her analogy before he could stop himself. Eve smiled at him.

 

"I'm sorry. You came here for my help, and here I am venting my troubles to you. Where was I? Right, after perfumes, I think you need to give him a stationery set. I know he writes things himself, so he'll appreciate it."

 

"Eve, we're friends. If you ever need to talk about your problems, I'm here."

 

"Thank you, James. But today, it's about you, not me. So - stationery sets. Ask Bill for his favoured ink-maker. And cat toys and treats should go over very well for him. Clothing and furs would be good, too. It shows you're thinking of his well-being. The fulgorid-fox pelts would be nice.”

 

“I would have thought sable or chincilla would be better.”

 

”Wait until you’re married to give him the more lavish furs. I know men in his country wear girdles, but I think it would be too common a gift. A woolen cloak with fur trim should be better. Throw in some silk embroidery, too.”

 

“I'll tell my tailors and furriers to prepare those, then. Do you know where I can get cat toys?"

 

"Go to For Your Paws Only, or Purr Usual. They're the most popular shops in the southern market." Eve laughed at James' snort. "I know, they have ridiculous names, but they do sell excellent pet supplies. Bring Alec along."

 

"Since when did Alec know anything about cats?"

 

"When you were away, he started asking around for what he should do to prepare for cats. I suppose he was lonely without you around and decided an animal just like you would do until you get back."

 

James kept his face neutral at her mention of his time with Vesper Lynd and said "I am not at all like a cat."

 

"Really now? Loves to hunt? All over you one minute and distant the next? Territorial? Hates doctors? Am I describing you, or a cat?"

 

James had to concede he really was very cat-like. "I noticed you didn't mention the trait I thought cats and I share the most."

 

"Really now? What is it?"

 

"We both love pats and strokes." James smirked.

 

Eve huffed and smacked James' arm, but her lips were twitching. "You dirty old man. You can't go one hour without innuendoes, can you? Maybe you're a dog; loyal, a good fighter, and lustful."

 

"You know me so well. I'm sorry, Eve, but I must take my leave now. Goodbye." James stood up, bent over and kissed her hand like the royal he was raised to be.

 

"You better treat King Q well, James, even though you don't or can't love him. He deserves that much at least." 

 

"Of course I will, Eve. What kind of man do you take me for?" James was affronted.

 

"A man reluctant to be a bargaining piece who does what he must."

 

James sighed. "I know it's very unlikely for me to be able to give him love, but I'm sure we will be friends. Don't worry, Eve."

 

"Alright, James. What are you going to do for the rest of the afternoon? You haven't anything scheduled, and before you say 'training', I think it's time you rest. Take Alec and go to the markets-or maybe not, it would be very crowded at late afternoon. Go to a dance-house, or a theatre."

 

"I'm going to see how the city reacts to M's announcement." James was reluctantly eager to see the chaos that must be happening.

 

"If someone tries to threaten you-" Eve began, but James cut her off.

 

"I'll stab the cur. Goodbye, Eve."

 

"Goodbye, James. Stay safe."

 

 

* * *

 

 

James and Alec were walking in the western market, in plainer clothes than usual and wearing caps that obscured their faces. They had ridden MI6's stallions, and had put them up for several hours in a stable near the market. Crowstar was big enough to have four markets for each direction. The northern market was known to have cheap, low-quality goods, and being where the riff-raff gathered. The southern market was for the richest and the aristocracy. Their shops sold the best of the best, and the prices reflected that. The western market was for the middling sort, while the eastern market was for those who fell rather low on the wealth scale but weren't penniless like the northeners. The middling sort made up the bulk of the people in Crowstar, so James and Alec had decided to investigate the western market first. They chose to go through a part of the market that consisted mostly of food sellers.

 

The street was bustling with people. It was a little past five, according to the sundial just outside the market square. James noticed that a lot of people wore faded clothes. He was worried; it meant even the middling people were getting poor enough that they couldn't even dye their old clothes. It made his brooding over his engagement seem silly. His people's wealth was dwindling away in front of him and he was throwing a fit over his betrothal. The shophouses looked worn and tired, and there were beggars. Normally, beggars only appeared in the eastern and northern markets.

 

"Rose pops! Fresh rose pops! Three-a-cup!" A slender brunette hollered from her stall, waving a paper cup with a red rose in it high above her head. James could smell the scent of blooms as he passed. 

 

"Herb toast! Honey toast! Come get your bread!" Across from her, a young boy, about fourteen or fifteen, shouted while waving his arms. Behind him, an old man was flipping bread in a pan. "Best pork crunchers in town! Good afternoon, sirs-want a slice?" The boy asked James and Alec when he saw Alec's eyes linger.

 

"You mentioned crunchers?" Alec replied.

 

"Oh, yes! You can have crunchers in buttered white, or in cheese toast, or egg bread! Any kind of bread you want, we have! What would you like, sir?" The boy wiggled in excitement. James couldn't help but smile at the boy's enthusiasm. His too-tight tunic threatened to rip at the seams, and his worn leggings-no, trousers, they were simply too small-had frayed hems. How had such a poor-looking boy come to belong in what was supposed to be a middle-class market?

 

"Crunchers with herb toast, please. Add an egg and some cheese, too. Do you want anything, James?"

 

"No, Alec."

 

"That'd be sixteen rays, sir." Alec gave the boy a rev, slang for a copper coin which was one-fifteenth of a Solar Dram and worth twenty-four rays, and told him to keep the change. The boy's grey eyes lit up when he saw the coin. He passed the coin to the old man and was given three rays back. The three copper coins went into a small pocket inside his tunic.

 

As they waited for the old man to put the pork scratchings on bread, Alec asked "Why the increase in price, Seller-?"

 

"Tim," the old man rasped out. No wonder he paid the boy to shout his wares, he could barely speak. "The prices of everything have gone up."

 

"It's been getting colder for the past years, sir," the boy interjected. "The farmers outside have been having bad harvests, so when they bring their crops and eggs and other foodstuffs here it's expensive."

 

"Ah. I wondered, because I bought the same thing two months ago and it only cost twelve rays-though you weren’t here then, boy.”

 

Seller Tim gave the paper-wrapped snack to Alec. Alec took it and gave the man a Dram. The Seller's eyes widened at the gold coin.

 

"Keep that, Seller. You need it more than me."

 

"Bless you, sir. May Helios linger over you, and may the Sun warm all ills out of you," Tim gasped out.

 

Alec passed the boy a groat. It was worth two-hundred rays. "Go get new clothes, boy. You're ripe for an embarrassing incident in those rags."

 

"Thank you, sir!" The boy accepted the coin gratefully. 

 

"Why aren't you in learning, child?" James asked. A boy his age would normally be training with his parents to run their trade, if his parents were business owners. Or he would be educated in the local school to take up a respectable job, or study as someone's apprentice. 

 

"People's been getting fired by the dozen, and Pa can't afford to send me to school anymore. So I work, but it’s hard to find a situation because no one wants to hire anyone older than twelve, because they're too expensive. But Seller Tim's a nice man, he doesn't mind paying me three rays per customer."

 

"I see. Well, Alec, let's go." Alec had finished half his food while James was talking to the boy. They had just taken a step when the boy called out for them to stop.

 

James turned back curiously. Alec reached into his money pouch, in case the boy asked for more money. 

 

"Sirs, I think you need to be careful right now." The boy looked nervously at something behind them. "Handing out a blinder and silver, people's going to talk of you and you'll be crowded by the girls." A Dram was called a blinder because the gold it was made of shone brightly. Groats were made of silver, thus people called groats silvers.

 

Alec whistled when he saw what the boy was looking at. A group of scantily-clad women was loitering near the market square corner and eyeing them hungrily. James tossed the boy another rev. Harlots in the western market-or should he say _obviously in the market_ -things were bad. There were women who sold their services at every market, but outside the eastern and northern ones, they weren't so blatant. It was always a woman winking at men from her window or while pretending to browse goods, or leering from an alleyway, because the city guard would arrest them if they were too direct. It meant women couldn't care less if they were arrested, they wanted money too much. The economy was in more dire straits than James thought.

 

"Thank you for warning us," he smiled at the boy.

 

"Happy to help, sirs," the boy bowed somewhat clumsily, obviously unused to the gesture. James and Alec continued on their way.

 

"River cones! Five rays a scoop!" A bandy-legged youth shovelled salted fish into a paper cone and put it in a holder he built in front of his counter. 

 

"Petals! Dandelions, lavenders, honeysuckle! We got them all!" A black woman, her hair in countless thin braids, shook a glass jar of candied pansies in the air. 

 

"James, it's not your fault," Alec said, seeing the look on James' face. "You're not the Master of Coin, so-"

 

"You're right, I'm not. I'm the future ruler of this country who is responsible for his people. I should have done  _something_ ," James hissed.

 

"You're a man of many skills, James, but I doubt even you can tell the frost to piss off.  _I_ couldn't, so you definitely can't," Alec ribbed him through his last mouthful of bread. He tossed the paper wrapper it came in to an alleyway.

 

James only brooded silently. Alec sighed.

 

 _Not even saying he can't do something caused any sort of reaction._  Alec thought ruefully. _How am I supposed to pull him out of this funk? Oh, right-that can work._

 

Alec purposefully steered James toward the group of harlots that the boy had warned them against. He mouthed _tempt him_ to the women as he approached. They giggled before nodding enthusiastically. One of them, a curvy brunette wearing a scarlet wool dress that laced up in front-not that she actually laced it properly, with how her bosoms and chemise were exposed-pressed said exposed assets into James' arm. 

 

"Good afternoon, sir," she purred, grey eyes lustful. "Would you like a ride on my peaks?"

 

"Forgive me, Miss, but I must decline," James replied, though his lips twitched. He pulled his arm away from her.

 

"What about me, sir?" A tall redhead behind her, with her skirts pulled up into her belt, beamed. "I play the whore-pipe better than anyone," she boasted.

 

"Oh, come off it, Ishbel!" A skinny blonde scoffed. "Don't believe this she-hound. I'm the Duchess of Quim and I'm the best at pulling a peg!"

 

The other women tittered. Smiling, James said "I really must be going now. Good-"

 

"Then would your friend, who's eyeing my apple-dumpling shop, by the way-like to have a round?" Bosomy Brunette cut him off. "Five florins for a bite of these, sir," she winked at Alec while pulling her dress lower.

 

James laughed. "Goodbye, ladies." He tossed Bosomy Brunette a Dram. The women gasped. The groat should be enough to get all-Alec did a headcount-six of them food and a small shared room for the night.

 

"Have some nice hot dinner. And whatever you're doing to that poor boy who works for Seller Tim, stop." 

 

"But Artur's so much fun to tease!" Ishbel giggled. "He turns redder than my hair whenever we so much as smile at him!"

 

James shook his head. "Just don't bother him too much. Let's go, Alec."

 

"Come back soon, sirs! Don't be a stranger!" Skinny Blonde yelled as they left.

 

"Must you really do that, Alec?" James asked.

 

"You were sulking." Alec replied unrepentantly. "We really should go the center of the square now if we want to make it in time for dinner, James. We spent too long near the edges." 

 

"If we're late, I'm blaming you." 

 

"Go ahead, make me the scapegoat. Oh, a preacher's shrieking about sodomites and M's new law!" They hurried closer to the man.

 

"Everyone's going home or buying dinner and he stands there on his crate making a great harvest of a little corn about what people do with their pintles." James muttered angrily.

 

"Don't you think you should order him away?" Alec asked.

 

"Let's listen to his 'objections' first."

 

They stood in silence listening to the priest shout about how sodomites were all poxy criminals who spread disease to 'proper' men by seducing them and how the law would embolden the 'abominations'. He also called lesbians 'ugly women who were barren as an ale barrel' because they were so unpleasant and worthless no man wanted to marry them. A worryingly large number of people were nodding along to his words.

 

"The man's full as a goat." Alec declared. "I can't believe people actually think this nonsense is true."

 

"They do. I've had enough of this-hold my cap." James ripped his cap off and shoved it into Alec's hand.

 

"What am I, your comb-brush?" Alec hissed, but before he could take it further a man shouted "Hey! That's the Prince and his manservant!"

 

"I'm an Earl!" Alec protested, but no one noticed. They were too busy gaping at the aristocrat in their midst.

 

"Prince James! Please, sire-come up here and say what you think about the Queen's new law!" The priest bowed and jumped off his crate. His audience hurriedly bowed or curtsied, depending on their sex. James smiled charmingly before standing up on the crate. He couldn't help but feel a little offended the priest assumed he would be against M on the topic. He may be a 'rebellious little shit', as some of the servants called him when they thought he couldn't hear, but he always supported M.

 

Alec grinned. The commoners didn't know James like he did. He knew James would cause trouble.

 

"I see there are a lot of objections to M's stance on men who love other men," James said rhetorically.

 

A wave of assent passed through his audience. 

 

"They're sinning abominations!" A woman in a worn cloak shouted, raising her arm. The movement parted her cloak enough so Alec caught a glimpse of her see-through shift and ill-fitting dress. It seemed to be a hand-me-down. The dress was three inches short of what decency demanded, exposing her stockinged ankles. 

 

 _Woman, according to the priests, your hems are too revealing and your elbows ought to be covered by more than your shift. You have no room to judge._ Alec thought.  _But judge you will because you're a hypocrite._ Alec felt somewhat guilty judging the woman's secondhand clothes, but she really was a wicked harpy.

 

"I must disagree with you." James basked in the scandalized gasps and whispers. "You see, I'm engaged to King Q."

 

The audience exploded with questions. James raised his hand and they all fell silent.

 

"You can guess my stance on M's new law. I fully support her and any person who feels the same way I do. Priest!" The gaping man paled as he found himself addressed by the prince.

 

"Y-yes, Your-Your Highness?" he stuttered out.

 

"Quit your gammon. If any muckspout slanders men and women who love differently than most with other blatant untruths, you will face my wrath. Thank you for listening." James bowed and jumped off the crate. He skillfully evaded any attempt to question him by the distraught commoners and melted into the shadows.

 

Alec laughed before he hurried James' way. James was hiding in an alleyway while smirking to himself. Once Alec was at his side, they hurried out of the market and into the stable where their horses were. Chortling, James slid over the counter the half-rev coin the stable master demanded for their horses.

 

The stable boy must have thought them drunkards with the way they giggled as they climbed astride their mounts. James tossed the boy another half-rev as a tip. They hurriedly galloped to MI6, still snickering.

 

"M's going to have your hide for announcing it yourself instead of waiting for her to declare it officially!" Alec gasped out.

 

"She can have it, I regret nothing!" James hollered.

 

They barely had any time to dress for dinner before arriving in M's dining chamber at half past six. True to Alec's word, M reamed James out while swearing like a cutter. Poor Robert turned blue from not laughing at James' predicament by holding his breath. 

 

James was forbidden from training and drinking any alcohol for a week. He was also given the most boring duties during that time. But he insisted it was all worth it to Alec after the latter smuggled in a bottle of whiskey into James' bedchamber next night.

 

 


End file.
